(/dXu^ oX VhJL 







. ^ £ 



CL^JL; 



** CUX. Dd.UduJUo. 




Glass 


risa 


Rook 


,^4 




■ 






I 

QBE 






ADDRESS AT THE FUNERAL 



OF THE 



HON. JOHN K. KANE, 

AT FERN-ROCK, PHILADELPHIA, FEBRUARY 24, 1858. 



B Y 

CHARLES W. SHIELDS, 
ri 

PASTOR OF THE SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH. 



ADDRESS- 



Familiar as we are with confessions of 
human ignorance and helplessness, it is 
only in some actual sorrow that these facts 
of our condition impress us with the force 
of reality. The ordinary developments of 
Providence but seldom suggest the peniten- 
tial common-places which we parade on 
religious occasions. Though really no less 
inscrutable than the most enigmatical 
events that ever befall us, yet we per- 
versely deal with them as their authors 
and masters, and in the very presence of 
Infinite Wisdom deport ourselves as confi- 






dently as if admitted to its most secret 
counsels. 

Sudden calamity rends the veil of this 
proud illusion and forces us back in con- 
scious, helpless dependence upon the all- 
ruling Deity. A sore bereavement utterly 

dissipates our wonted complacency, turns 
all ordinary wisdom into folly, and leaves 
us no alternative but simple resignation to 
the will of God. 

When an object of many fond affec- 
tions, a centre of many clustering hopes 
and sympathies, and an upholder of widely- 
extended and varied relations, in the midst 
of health, usefulness, and duty, is swiftly 
prostrated by disease and death — like some 
riven oak, involving in its fall, together 



with its own foliage and the tendrils cling- 
ing around its boughs, the interlacing 
branches of the neighboring forest — we 
can only stand contemplating the melan- 
choly ruin with bewilderment and grief. 
We know not how to order our feelings. 
The foundations appear to be giving way 

beneath us; life looks strange and vision- 
ary; and the very joy of nature seems 
gairish and cruel. 

These moments, my friends, are sacred 
to sorrow. We visit this house of mourn- 
ing and join this bereaved circle on an 
errand of sympathy and consolation. I 
respect the proprieties of the occasion. 

Solemn lessons indeed there are in the 
startling event which has called us to- 



Bl 



gether, of the utter vanity of all human 
prospects. How like some wild, distem- 
pered dream this whole reality ! How 
terribly abrupt this transition from the 
honors, the duties, and the endearments 
of life, to the nameless horrors of the 
grave ! What a rebuke upon that habit- 
ual heedlessness in which we live ! 
strange infatuation, which leads us to 
stake immortal interests upon the uncer- 
tainties of a moment ! Overshadowed by 
such a monitory dispensation, we do well 
indeed to pause and weigh the great 
questions of duty, destiny, and eternity. 
Yet the mere moral of the bereave- 
ment need not, surely, absorb or exhaust 
our sensibility. No : there are griefs and 



sympathies around me which have a right 
to some solacing expression. I would I 
could do them but simple justice. 

You do not, however, expect any ela- 
borate portraiture or studied eulogy in 
connection with these solemnities. 

Of the public life and services of the 
deceased; of the distinguished political 
stations he has occupied, the eminent pro- 
fessional abilities and attainments with 
which he has dignified them, and the 
industry and zeal he has brought to the 
discharge of their duties; of his contri- 
butions, in time, influence, and counsel, 
to our different civic associations for the 
promotion of Art, of Science, of Letters, 
and of Charity; of his varied scholar- 



8 

ship, his literary tastes and acquirements, 
his familiarity with the ancient and mo- 
dern classics, and his own exact and 
elegant diction both in colloquial and 
written composition ; of his discriminating 
intellect, severe analytic power, astute- 
ness in argument, and tact in . affairs ; of 
the uniform dignity and amenity which 
marked his deportment in all these varied 
spheres and relations; — of such and other 
features of his public career his public 
associates will make fitting acknowledg- 
ment. 

These are not the topics which occupy 
our present sympathies. Here, in this 
circle of kindred and friends, it is the 
private character — that aspect of an offi- 



9 



cial personage always more or less con- 
cealed and sometimes distorted in the 
popular fancy — it is, in a word, the man 
himself who invites and absorbs our con- 
templation. 

And Jiow the very image which rises 
before you, while I speak — that personal 
presence, expressive only of thorough cul- 
ture and refinement, with those genial 
and courtly manners, so full of delicate 
tact and kindness, yet sustained with such 
reserved self-possession — how this very 
image, now present to your thought, ren- 
ders verbal delineation at once inadequate 
and unnecessary ! There was in his ha- 
bitual demeanor a native grace and civility 
which shone through all forms and con- 



10 

ventionalities with original brightness, and 
made the heartfelt compliment only the 
more grateful for its disguise of playful 
raiilerie. 

But no mere enfeebled good nature or 
undiscriminating amiability was this his 
most obvious characteristic. It found its 
becoming support in a sentiment of per- 
sonal dignity which nothing could assail, 
and was invigorated by a tenacious ad- 
herence to opinion, logic, and principle, 
that would admit neither of concession nor 
of compromise. Thus he consistently min- 
gled gentleness with firmness, and carried 
into the severest conflicts of feeling a 
blended deference and dignity that dis- 
armed controversy of rudeness and still 



11 

held captive a personal friend in the po- 
litical foe. His was in fact that rare 
magnanimity which is as incapable of in- 
flicting as of inviting any assault upon 
the generous sensibilities, and, like deli- 
cacy in woman, is its own protection, 
making it impossible for anything vile to 
live in its presence. 

Behind and above these more exterior 
qualities, however, were others, always 
their legitimate crown and complement in 
every noble character. Like that most 
accomplished courtier of his time, whose 
" knee bent not more loyally to his queen, 
than reverently to his God," he could not 
understand why gentleness, firmness and 
fearlessness before man should divest him 



. 



12 

of reverence, gratitude and faith in the 
presence of his Maker. Content to be a 
philosopher in everything else, in religion 
he would be a child. 

Nor was this the mere secret discipleship 
that sometimes seeks to seclude itself in 
the closet and at the fire-side. He openly 
gave his name, influence, and labors to the 
cause his heart had espoused; and in the 
church, of which he was a leading member 
and officer, has left lamented vacancies* no 



* Judge Kane was a communicant in the Second 
Presbyterian Church of Philadelphia, and President 
of its Board of Trustees. He was also a member of 
various of the ecclesiastical Boards and Corporations 
of the Church. In these relations his personal and 
professional services were frequently and freely be- 
stowed. 



13 



less than in the worldly spheres through 
which Providence ordered his more con- 
spicuous pathway; — forming in this (I 
trust I may be pardoned the allusion : it is 
made in perfect consistency with profound 
respect and admiration toward any who 

may feel its pertinence), — forming in this an 
exception to the course of too many of the 
public men, who, in other respects, have 
received the deserved applause of the 
country. Was it not simply in keeping 
with the generosity I have been com- 
mending — (to place this transcendant in- 
terest on no higher ground) — that he did 
not countenance the paltry compromise of 
adjourning to the flurried hour of death 
a service for which the longest life were 



14 

only too short, nor add another to the 
eminent examples, who have entailed upon 
survivors the perplexing task of extract- 
ing consolation and praise from the frag- 
mentary and dubious expressions of a 
death-bed repentance. 

Certainly I should not have felt so 

wholly unembarrassed in the praises I have 
heartfully bestowed, were it not that, in 
that character which we contemplate, the 
graces of the gentleman and the accom- 
plishments of the scholar were crowned 
with the virtues of the Christian. 

There is another sphere, and other and 
dearer relations — here under this roof and 
within the seclusion of this home-circle, 
where he moved a constant contributor 



15 



and recipient of the fondest attentions — 
into which I cannot trust myself to intrude 
with any description. I could do justice 
neither to their feeling nor to yours. I 
will only assure them for all of our fervent 
and prayerful sympathy. 



c m 'in 



